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#these outfits are bit more recognizable
koushirouizumi · 8 months
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M E, past 72~ hours: Did the shirts arrive did the shirts arrive did the shirts arri DIGI-SHIRTS: *ARRIVED!!!* m E: OH THANK
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girlbossagenda · 2 months
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HOW TO GET A GLOW UP
‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.
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I used to be the ugly dunklin, till I change in 1 week and turned pretty much half of my life upside down, it happened right after my 16th catastrophic birthday, at the time I was already following Liz and her tips which helped me so much!! So here how to glow up in minimum 1 week
౨ৎsmell good౨ৎ
This is so important, I noticed how people react to good smelling people, they just say it out loud how much they like the fragrance, knowning that it's you, will just make you more approacable, it boosts your confidence and overl all more liked
౨ৎexercise + diet౨ৎ
This was huge for me, not only it imroves your moods but it also makes your prettier, you need to fist know what goals you want to archive physically, if you want a bigger butt, eggs and potatoes salad can be a good alternative, if you want to have a snatched waist try to do more cardio, at the time the only cardio I used to do was jump roping, which is amazing!!
౨ৎwardrobe౨ৎ
This was the revolution, just dress how ou want each outfit can have at max 2 trendy elements, not more, and the rest it needs to rappresnt YOUR personality!! This is going to make you unique and recognizable!! Also I suggest to go shopping on friday lol, the beauty day!
౨ৎmentality౨ৎ
This is how everything started, a munch of motivational viddeos, the wizard liz and confidence targetting posts, moodboards and much more, at the time I was getting treated really harshly from my classmates, it was probably one of thelowest point of my life, bit I pick myself up, cause I had a goal: Changing my narrative.
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There was not sense into staying bitter and hating not only myself but the world around, I wanted to prove to myself that I actually mettered, you don't glow up for other, but for yourself, never, ever welcome in your life people that before put you under the rug, have some respect for yourself and clear boundaries.
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Hi bonitas I hope you liked this short post, This is just part of my expereince, tell me if you want to know more + other tips!! maybe I'll make a longer version in the future, Have a great day xoxo gougeous
-𝓐
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spitdrunken · 3 months
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THIS IS INCREDIBLY SELF-INDULGENT BUT. MY BLOG!
notes: power imbalance, sexual harrassment, murder mentions.
rotating a thought in my head where 'you' are an increasingly popular erotica writer from the pride ring. with writing, you've hit a bit of a niche, as a lot of the big porn producers (VoxTech's subsidiaries) are not exactly known for their riveting dialogue or personalities. no one's there for anything more than that, but there are demons who do want a bit more 'meat', so to say, with nowhere else turn. that is where you come in!
it's not enough to make a steady living off of, not even when you start taking incredibly specific commissions, but it's never been more of a hobby anyway. you are completely anonymous online, keeping care to use throwaway emails and accounts for everything. still, voxtech's products are utterly inescapable: it's either using them, or using nothing at all. (and those rumours about their boss vox having complete control over his technology, even after selling, has to be a rumour... you hope.)
meanwhile, as your penname continues to grow more and more recognizable, it falls in the vees' meeting room. valentino's immediate suggestion is just to kill you. people in the comments keep comparing his dialogue to yours. what the fuck is that about? who the hell watches porn for the DIALOGUE in the first place?
velvette, while shrugging her shoulders, only adds that their new releases tend to go trending, prior to release. fucking far from the top of that list, but still. trending is trending.
vox, sighing internally, plasters a smile on his face. there's really no need to kill new up and coming talent, val. we should suggest them to work for us instead. and if they don't... we can simply prevent them from working. they'll make up their mind, then.
you return to your laptop to an utterly inescapable pop-up describing the opportunity of a lifetime: the chance to work at voxtech! it's a whole wall of text, describing your pay (higher than you would have expected), where you will be living (in one of the appartment buildings owned by voxtech), and when to head to their main office. there is no word on denying the contract, an utter impossibility, it seems. not that you'd dare. vox's and the radio demon's showdown was the talk of the ring for days, and apparantly, all that rancour was the source of alastor denying a contract of his own. that really is more shit than you can handle in your undead life now. so, you take the job.
as your stories are starting to get heavily promoted, velvette absolutely insists that you add in at least a couple of looong clothing descriptions, based on her tastes. she's such an overwhelming, pushy presence, that it's hard for you to say no. she goes on about how, if it gets popular enough, people might be interested in somewhat similar outfits. probably not, though, let's be honest with ourselves. she makes you model them, all the while telling you that you really wouldn't be allowed to breathe in the direction of her studio otherwise. when you ask her why you absolutely have the one modelling, she just rolls her eyes. you based large parts of their appearances after you, didn't you? might as well make you look the part.
valentino is one of the worst parts of the job. compared to everyone else, he hardly pesters you, but he's still a terrifying presence. he'll give you 'suggestions' and make you steer your work in certain directions, getting too close and blowing smoke into your face. he gives a graphic description of how he jacked off to one of your stories, just to see your response. (this is a lie: why would he jack off if he can just call some stupid whore over to do it for him? also, he doesn't read.)
if a part of one of your stories ever gets a 'porno adaptation', he's having you play the part of the director, and has you sit in during the entirety of the viewing. you can tell he takes great pleasure out of any of your discomfort, or any of your fumbling- until it's too sloppy, and then he gets mad, of course, and you end up leaving the room with shaky legs.
vox seems to be the nicest one out of the three of them. really, he's only ever been courteous to you. but you've seen him flip his lid during the aforementioned 'radio demon fiasco', which you have been wise enough to never mention, so you still walk on eggshells around him. he can also get pretty pushy about deadlines, so you're not taking any chances.
he insists on having semi-regular meetings with you about the sales figures of your most recent works, wherein you also have to describe your process on other projects and pitch new ideas. frankly, you wish these meetings could be an email! but even when you tried to broach the subject, telling him that, surely, the company leader's time is much more important than this?
he simply brushed you off, telling you that he can decide for himself who and what to spend his time on, thank you very much. now, please continue. he'll inform you of the latest kinks and dynamics that have been most popular, though with some peculiar additions as well. you swear that, sometimes, the main character really does seem to resemble yourself in those suggestions, and the love interest a member of the vees...? you're certain you're just imagining it.
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pascallftv · 4 months
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eighties baby
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summary: your parents throw an 80’s themed party in their mansion. you try your best to contain your infatuation for joel, your dad’s best friend. you and your friend get a little too drunk and joel decides to teach you a lesson.
content: joel miller x reader, no outbreak, little plot, dbf!joel, reader in her twenties
warnings: CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT. 18+ mdni!, age gap is 20s/50, piv unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cream pie, doggystyle, dirty talk, choking
an: i’m baaaaaack ;) this was… wow! pls enjoy
“Your ass looks immaculate.”
You glance over your shoulder in the reflection of the mirror, locking eyes with your best friend. She’s giving you wild eyes while biting her bottom lip that’s covered in bright red lip stick. Her makeup was done very vibrantly compared to usual; blue eyeshadow with bright pink blush.
“You don’t think it’s too short?” You ask, popping a hip to accentuate your ass further under your very tight and very short mini skirt. Typically, you wouldn’t mind if a little bit of cheek was hanging out the bottom of your skirt, but this was your parents’ party, not your typical college party. Your best friend rolled her eyes and you and laid a smack down on your ass. You yelped in surprise.
“It’s perfectly fine. It’ll be dark.” She begins, then her voice lowers. “Plus, Joel will want to eat you alive when he sees you in it.”
You bite your bottom lip to fight back a grin. She knew you too well. You sighed and placed your hands on your hip, your head turning to the side as your further inspect your outfit in your full length mirror. You decided to go with an 80s glam rock look instead of the typical vibrant colors from the time period. You were wearing a tight black leather skirt and matching top, with knee high platform boots with silver chains on them. You had grungy black eyeshadow matched with a glossy red lip. You felt hot.
“I can’t be too obvious. You cannot let me get too drunk tonight.” You say sternly. You were talking more to yourself than anything. You knew if you drank too much alcohol you would make a fool out of yourself in front of Joel.
Joel was your father’s main man. They’d known each other for decades now. Joel was a stern man; the crinkles by his eyes from his fifty years of wisdom weren’t usually intensified by joy, more by scowls. You’d like to think at one point he was a light hearted man, but you can’t help but wonder what in his years turned him into such a sour puss. You could count on one hand the amount of times you’d seen him genuinely laugh. It was an extremely rare occurrence, but the times he had, it was the most amazing sound you’d ever heard.
“Fine. But this is your chance to act as unhinged as you want because in the morning you can blame the alcohol.” Your best friend winks at you, patting you once more on the bum.
“You’re a terrible influence.” You turn to face her. Your shorter friend stares up at you with a devilish grin and runs her thumb along your bottom lip, cleaning up your red lipstick.
“We should head down there, take a couple shots, scope it out.” She suggests, grabbing your perfume off your vanity and spritzing it on the both of you a few times. You nod in agreement, and check your outfit in the mirror one last time. You take a deep breath and grab your friend’s hand to leave your bedroom. The 80s music was already thumping from your parent’s massive surround sound speakers downstairs. The lights were off, with the sole light source being a couple lamps and some red lights your parents used for their annual Halloween party.
When you made it downstairs, the house was already packed out. The entire neighborhood was in your parents’ house. All of the couples in the neighborhood were in attendance, as well as their children (all in their twenties or older). If you squinted hard enough, it even looked like a college party. The lighting was just enough to see the basic traits of everyone’s faces, most of them being somewhat recognizable to you. You had just graduated from college earlier that month, so you were home temporarily until you found your full-time calling.
Your friend dragged you to the kitchen where all of the alcohol was stashed. On the island, there was a lineup of liquor with the appropriate mixers. She decided to pour you each a hefty shot of tequila, as well as a lime wedge. You absolutely hated any dark liquor, and unfortunately vodka had been tainted for you in your time at college, so tequila was the sole surviving option for you. You didn’t mind the taste of tequila, but the catch was its effect on you. Unlike other forms of liquor, tequila made you incredibly horny. After around 4 tequila shots, you had the tendency to shed off articles of clothing like you were battling a heat wave. This made you nervous considering you knew Joel would be in attendance; however, as your friend said, you can use the liquor as a scapegoat if it got that bad.
As you and your friend shot back your tequila, you began wondering where Joel could be. The party started over thirty minutes ago, and it was uncharacteristic of him to be late, meaning he was in the house somewhere. The thought alone made your skin crawl.
“One more.” Your friend called out over the music, pouring you each another hefty shot. Your eyes got wide. You knew you’d have to take a break from drinking after this shot, otherwise you’d end up butt ass naked in the middle of this party.
Another hefty shot later, and you were already feeling the buzz from the alcohol. Your veins felt tingly and your limbs felt weightless. You each made yourselves your mixed drink of choice, and decided to make your way out to the makeshift dance floor in your parents’ spacious living room. They had a portable disco floor, as well as a disco ball hung from the ceiling. No one took parties more seriously than your parents.
Your friend grabbed your arm and pulled you onto the dance floor, with “Talking in Your Sleep” by the Romantics blasting from the speakers. Your eyes wandered around the room trying to find the brown eyed man you’d be longing to see. Sure enough, you spotted him. He was sitting on the sofa, leaning back with his legs spread out in front of him. He had a glass of what appeared to be whiskey in his hand, resting on his thigh. You gulped when you noticed he was already looking at you. You quickly looked away and took a sip of the tequila sour you half-assed at the kitchen makeshift bar.
You made eye contact with your friend, and you gave her panic eyes to let her know you found him. She caught on almost instantly, and took that as a queue to scoot out of your line of sight. She leaned closer to you to say something in your ear.
“Go sit next to him.” She suggested loudly into your ear.
You shot her a look of unease. Wouldn’t that be too obvious? You shook your head no rapidly in response. It was too early in the night for you to do something as ballsy as that.
After about half an hour, your friend’s drink was empty and she was dragging you back to the kitchen. Your drink was still three-fourths full. Your stomach was bubbling with anxiety knowing that Joel had a direct view of you in your anything but conservative outfit. Besides, you were scared for your actions if you ingested any more alcohol.
Your friend took two more shots and mixed herself another strong cocktail. You knew she was going to be shitfaced in the matter of minutes. You rub your forehead and sigh. It’s going to be a quick night for her.
Your predictions were correct.
Forty minutes passed and her cocktail was gone, and so was she. She was so plastered that she couldn’t stand up straight, constantly grabbing your arm for support. You looked around the room and immediately made eye contact with Joel. He’s watching the both of you intensely, his head nodding over to the side as he observes your friend stumbling around. You’re fully embarrassed at how gone your friend was already. Your stomach flips when you noticed Joel was lifting himself off his spot in the sofa, making his way towards the both of you. He grabbed onto your arm, a look of concern crossing his features.
“Come on.” He said shortly, moving his arm from yours to hers, helping her stand up somewhat straight. “Let’s take her upstairs.”
You glanced down at your friend and her head was lulling to the side, her eyes fluttering shut. There was no salvaging her. You nodded in response to Joel and helped him practically carry your friend upstairs to your bedroom. After her nearly falling every few steps, you finally make it to your bedroom. You noticed Joel’s eyes wandering around the walls of your room as he took in the decor. You had various band posters still hanging in your childhood bedroom, many of them being 60’s rock bands that your dad showed you. You gently lay your friend down onto your bed, and almost immediately she’s snoring.
“Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry about this, Joel.” You mutter, looking up at him with apologetic eyes. You absentmindedly toy with your hands in front of you. Despite the shots you did take, you were still feeling nervous; the liquid courage wasn’t doing its job.
Joel stepped closer to you and shook his head. His brown eyes were soft and his eyebrows were furrowed.
“It was nothing, really.” He assures you, taking a glance back at your friend. He was amused at just how fast your friend fell asleep. He turned back to look at you and felt something flutter deep in his gut.
He had kept his eyes in you all night. He couldn’t believe how grown you were. Sure, he had known you since you were young, but you were a woman now. You had always been pretty, but now, you were stunning. He felt disgusting about it. Of all the women in his life, none of them compared to you, his best friend’s daughter. The entire night he had watched the way your latex skirt was fighting to stay over the plump flesh of your ass. Your top wasn’t much better; it left little to the imagination, your nipples peaking through the thin fabric of it. You were genuinely perfect in his eyes, and it was causing him the most intense moral battle of his life.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked quietly. His eyes were wandering over you, but he was saying nothing. It looked as though he was fighting something internally.
“What are you doing here?” He asked blandly, ignoring your question entirely. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.
“What do you mean?” You pondered, crossing your arms over your chest, unintentionally pushing your boobs up further, placing them in perfect display for Joel.
“You could be anywhere, yet here you are drunk at your parents’ party.” He said, glancing down at your chest, hoping you wouldn’t notice, but of course you did. You chuckle in response.
“I just graduated college, Joel. I’m home temporarily until I can find something full time. What’s the matter? Am I inconveniencing you somehow?” You asked with pure sass.
“Well not entirely, no.” Joel says, stepping closer to you. “You’d think you and your friend would have a little self control considering the environment. This isn’t college, sweetheart.”
“I beg your pardon? I’ve barely drank anything. For god sake I helped you carry her.” You get defensive, emphatically gesturing towards your friend that’s passed out in your bed. “And unfortunately she could’ve been way worse than this.”
“You should’ve stopped her before she was fighting to keep herself standing.” Joel scolded you, his brows furrowing further.
“Aww what’s wrong, Joel? You have no children of your own so you have to parent me?” You snarled, stepping another inch closer to him. Joel frowns, his fist clenching at his hip.
“You’re a little fucking brat, ain’t ya?” Joel growls, getting centimeters away from your face. He was so close that you could feel his hot breath on the skin of your face.
“And you’re just a dickhead, huh?” You fire back.
Joel grabbed you by the forearm and tugged you towards your bedroom door. Before you could protest, Joel was dragging you down the hall to a spare bedroom. He swiftly pulled you inside and locked the door behind you. He grabbed you firmly by the throat, squeezing just the sides as to not restrict your airflow.
“Bit of an attitude problem, eh?” Joel spoke sternly. You gulped, gawking up into his crinkled eyes. “Might just have to sort you out.”
“What are you doing, Joel?” You squeaked out, your hand reaching up to grab ahold of his forearm. His face moved closer to yours, his eyes moving down to your crimson lips.
“I can only imagine you put on this poor excuse of a skirt to try and get someone to pay attention to you in the way you’re craving. You’re a little fucking whore, aren’t you?” Joel growls, his free hand moving down to your skirt, pulling it away from your body so it smacked back against your plump thighs. You gasped. You didn’t know how to respond to that. Was this actually happening?
After years of secretly fantasizing about a moment like this, it was finally happening, and you were flabbergasted.
“Answer me. Tell me what you are.” His grip around your throat slowly moved up to your jaw, his fingers squeezing your cheeks, making your lips purse.
You groaned in response, a hand trailing up Joel’s torso to his chest, laying a flat hand against him. His heart was beating rapidly. You glanced down and noticed the bulge straining against his vintage Levi jeans. He was enjoying this a little too much. You forced your face away from his grip, grabbing his wrist as hard as you could.
“I’m not a whore.” Your words were laced with venom. You were frustrated. Not because of the substance of Joel’s words, but because you were so fucking aroused. If it were anyone else, you probably would’ve planted a firm kick in their groin or sucker punched them in the lip. His words were disgusting, but you were eating it up.
“No?” Joel cocked his head at you. His free hand snakes up under your skirt, his fingertips pressing against your folds. His fingers were met with moisture. Your panties were soaked through. His gaze fell to his hand, then back up to your doe eyes. He smirked devilishly at you, his hand moving to your face. With his thumb, he pawed at your bottom lip, pulling it away from your teeth.
“Your cunt says otherwise, darling.” He muttered, his breath fanning across your face once more. You swallowed hard. You averted your eyes from him, his gaze making you feel entirely too hot.
“My parents.” You blurted out, your gaze returning to his momentarily. He swallows, his thumb still sitting by your mouth.
“They won’t know.” He said. You retracted your grip from his forearm, and he took that as an opportunity to run his finger up the outside of your arm painfully slow. “What’s wrong sweetheart? Scared of your daddy finding out?”
Your lips parted, a harsh exhale escaping your throat. Your body was on fire, your skin littered with goosebumps from Joel’s touch. To any normal person, this situation would be incredibly alarming. Yes, your moral compass was clawing at the back of your mind, but you craved interaction. Your morals were out the window, your desires taking superiority.
“Yes.” You whispered, your gaze falling to Joel’s lips. They were tempting you.
“If you don’t want this, stop me.”
Joel’s hand moved from your arm back towards the bottom of your skirt, pushing it up over your thighs, your red panties on full display.
“Fuck.” Joel growled, his fingertips grazing your mound through the lacy fabric. He pushed your panties to the side, his finger running through your folds, collecting your arousal. “Stop me, angel.” He teased.
His fingertip ghosted over your sensitive clit, your legs jolting in response, a whimper leaving your mouth. His mouth hovered over the soft skin of your neck, his breath stirring up goosebumps.
“S’matter sweetheart?” Joel muttered, planting a soft kiss to your throat. “Tell me what you need.”
“N-need more.” You said, your brows furrowing in desperation. You glanced down at his hand between your legs, your lower gut fluttering at the sight. He applied more pressure to the circles he was dancing over your swollen bud, the pleasure sending your head to lull backwards. You whimpered more, your legs beginning to feel like jello.
“You sound so pathetic.” Joel spat, working his fingers faster on your clit. You exhaled unevenly, your hand coming down on Joel’s bicep for stability.
You felt that familiar white heat beginning to ignite low in your belly, your cunt throbbing steadily. Your eyes squeezed shut. You were close— but Joel knew that. He wasn’t going to let you come just yet. Without warning, Joel halted his actions, his hand leaving your folds. You could’ve cried in that moment. Joel grabbed your forearm and tugged you towards the bed, pushing you down onto the duvet.
“Joel, please. I need to cum.” You whined, your head falling back into the soft mattress. Joel purses his lips at you, his hand running along the smooth skin of your leg, inching closer to where you needed his attention most.
“Jesus, sweetheart. At least you know what you want.” Joel said, squeezing the flesh of your thigh with the rough skin of his palm. “Here’s how this is gonna go. First I’m going to taste you. Then, I’m going to fuck you until you forget how to think. Got it?”
You nodded pathetically, grinding your hips down onto the mattress, desperate for some sort of friction. Joel ghosted his hands over your thighs to the seam of your latex skirt, gripping it between his fingers. In a swift motion, Joel tugged the skirt down your legs and off your body, tossing it somewhere on the floor. He left your boots on, not quite wanting to get rid of them yet. Your pussy looks so pretty underneath the transparent lace fabric of your thong. It left little to nothing to Joel’s imagination. Your breasts were spilling out of your black top, your areolas peaking out. You looked breathtaking.
“Fuck, angel. I wish you could see yourself. So pretty for me.” Joel muttered, lowering his face to your groin, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh. He ran his large hand up the back of your thigh, squeezing every few inches. You bite your lip and you stared down at his face as he littered kissed across your thighs. His salt and pepper beard added even more texture to the sensations you were feeling. He slipped his fingers underneath the fabric of your panties and slowly pulled them down your tights and over your boots, leaving your heat bare. Joel lowered his face down to your core, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin. He pressed a kiss to your pelvic bone, then ghosted his lips in a line down to your sensitive bud. He planted another kiss over your clit, taking his sweet time teasing you. Your pussy was throbbing at this point, desperate for any sort of touch.
“Joel please.” You pleaded, grinding your hips up towards his mouth. “I need your tongue.”
“Good girl.” He said, lowering his tongue to your folds, licking a wet stripe up your vulva, tracing a circle around your clit, sucking down on it gently. He moaned into your flesh, the vibrations sending a chill down your spine. His tongue began to work faster, flicking up and down and side to side over your clit. He brought his middle finger to your opening, ghosting circular motions over it, before slowly pushing it inside of you. You exhaled deeply at the sensation. He began pumping his finger rhythmically in and out of you, paying special attention to curl his fingertip upwards to brush against your g spot. As he felt your walls growing accustom to the girth of his singular digit, he added a second finger, pumping faster. Just from his fingers and tongue, you already felt fucked out of your mind. The pleasure sent shocks down your legs and up your spine, your head rolling back into the mattress in euphoria. A quiet moan slipped through your cherry lips, your fists grabbing the bedding for leverage to cope with the immense pleasure coursing through you.
“Joel.” You whimpered, one of your hands jetting down to grab at his hair as he lapped at your wet heat. His soft brown eyes flicked up to meet yours at the sound of your voice. Your moan went straight to his already throbbing cock.
“Christ, baby.” He groaned, lifting away from your core to unbutton his Levi’s. His hand fumbled with the zipper to get them off as fast as he could. The anticipation was killing him; he was so hard that it was beginning to hurt. He needed inside you immediately.
Finally managing to slide his jeans down his legs, his cock was straining against his boxers. The tent was revealing in itself; you already knew he was packing a punch. It felt painfully slow, but finally Joel slipped off his boxers, revealing his erection. Leaking at the tip, he brushed his thumb over, cleaning up the precum that had accumulated from tasting you.
You sat up from the mattress and grabbed his face in your hands, pressing your lips to his. Your lips moved against his in a passionate rush. You could taste yourself on his lips. Another whimper rose from your throat, the moan vibrating off his lips. The sound of your wet kiss filled the room as he lowered his body over yours to lay you back down against the bed. His hand moved from his cock to your breast, pulling it out of your top and giving it a firm squeeze.
“Fuck.” He muttered against your lips as you rocked your hips into his. You needed his touch desperately.
“Fuck me.” You breathed out, pulling away to look him in the eye. “Please.”
That was all Joel needed to hear. He reached down to take his cock in his hand again, guiding his top to press into your folds. He ran back and forth against your slick, his precum mixing with your arousal. His eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as he felt your wetness already beginning to coat him. His eyes lifted back to meet yours as he began to slowly press his tip into your entrance, the stretch already making you feel crazed. Your lips parted, an exhale escaping your lips as he pressed himself into your further. Your hands darted up to grab onto his biceps as leverage. He lowered down to your lips, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to them as he pushed his length inside of you to the hilt. Another moan escaped your lips.
“Y’okay?” Joel breathed out, slowly pumping in and out of you, allowing you time to adjust. You nodded your head, unable to form a coherent sentence.
“More.” You begged. “I need more.”
Joel ran his hand from your thigh up your belly, dragging his finger tip slowly to take in every inch of your skin. He reached your neck, wrapping his calloused fingertips around your throat, carefully squeezing on the sides. He leaned down to meet your lips, taking your bottom lip between his teeth momentarily.
“So fucking needy.” He grumbled against your mouth, his eyelids fluttering closed.
Suddenly, Joel began pounding into you. His hot breath fanned over your face as he rammed in and out of you, his length reached the deepest parts of you. You gasped, your hand reached up to grab his wrist that was busy squeezing your throat. Your eyes rolled back in your head and he slammed into you over and over. You were sure he was hitting you so deep that he was nicking your cervix. Just when you thought you couldn’t be more overwhelmed with pleasure, Joel’s free hand snaked between your thighs, his thumb finding your clit, ghosting gentle circles over the sensitive nub. You squeaked out a moan, the pleasure overcoming your senses completely. Your legs began to shake from the stimulation, your lower belly muscles tensing from the overwhelming sensation. Your breath was shaking, the oxygen feeling as through it had completely left your lungs.
“F-fuck.” You stuttered as Joel thrusted into you. “I’m close.”
Joel took this as an opportunity to slide out of you, wasting no time in flipping you onto your belly, laying a hard slap against your bare ass cheek. He groaned as your ass jiggled from the slap, his hand coming back down to grab a handful of your flesh. You pressed your face down into the duvet, letting out a moan. Your pussy was throbbing from the sudden lack of attention. You wiggled your hips, nonverbally begging for Joel’s cock. He chucked, slapping your ass once more before pressing himself back at your entrance, ramming into you fully, his hips meeting your ass in a rush. He grabbed a cheek with his rough fingertips, pulling your ass apart to get a full view of himself slamming into you. Your tightest hole was on perfect display for him.
“One day I’m going to claim you here too.” Joel growled, his fingertip grazing the ring of your asshole. You gasped, your forehead coming down onto the bedding, pressing your face down into the duvet to cover your moan. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Me claiming your tight little ass as mine?”
You nodded rapidly, a straggled breath leaving your mouth. It was so goddamn hard for your mind to focus on anything except the feeling of his tip grazing the opening of your cervix with every thrust. Once again, Joel reached his hand down to toy at your clit, bringing you closer to your climax. The white heat hit you again as your legs began to shake under you. Joel wasn’t far behind you, and his pace wasn’t easing up.
His hips met yours hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping echoing off the walls of the spare bedroom. If it weren’t for the music thumping downstairs, your sinful act would’ve already been heard throughout the entire house. Joel leaned down, kissing you against your spine, his hand kneading your ass.
“F-fuck, where do you want me? Your mouth? Or should I fill you up?” Joel grunted, his hand snaking around your front to firmly grab your breast, pinching your nipple between his fingertips.
You gasped, the stimulation for your nipple slipping you into the beginning of your orgasm. You didn’t answer him, the feeling of your impending climax completely taking over your body.
“Look at you cumming around my cock. Such a good fucking slut.” Joel growled, his pace somehow quickening further. His hand reached up to your hair, grabbing a fistful of locks and pulling your head backwards. His other hand reached around to your throat as he bent down to kiss you from the intense angle, your orgasm taking over you entirely. Your toes began to curl beneath you, your pussy clamping around Joel’s cock that was twitching deep inside you. Your pussy clenched down around his length, hugging it perfectly.
“Fuck.” Joel whimpered, his high hitting him like a train. Your spasming canal clamped down around him as he came in hot spurts, coating your walls deep inside of you. Your walls clenched around him, milking every ounce of cum from his length.
His thrusts slowed as his seed filled you up, his hands grabbing your hips for stability as he came the hardest he’d ever came in his life. He moaned as he slowly slipped his spent cock out of you, some of his release dripping out of your used up hole. The sight was intoxicating.
“Fuck.” Joel breathed out again, taking in the ruined state of your folds. He ran his fingers down your slick, mixing his cum with yours. You flinched at the sensitivity of your pussy, whining as he brushed over your clit.
You were spent. Your face was still pressed against the mattress, your ass still perched in the air. Joel’s cum was slowly leaking out of you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You were too fucked out of your mind to notice that Joel had left the bed to retrieve a wet rag from the attached bathroom. You winced as he gently cleaned up the juices spilling from you.
“You look so beautiful with my cum dripping out of you.” He spoke, running a hand up and down the back of your thigh. He pressed a kiss to your sore ass cheek from where he had smacked it.
You rolled over onto your back, your tender breasts jiggling from the movement. Joel leaned down and took a breast into his mouth, gently sucking on your hardened nipple.
“As much as I’d love to stay here and fuck you all night, I should go before your daddy starts to wonder where we went.” Joel said, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.
A pit grew deep in your gut at the thought of Joel leaving you, but you knew the nature of this interaction and it would be silly of you to expect any different. You gazed up at him and frowned.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Joel shook his head and straightened up, moving his attention to dress himself. He began buttoning his flannel that he’d taken off during your interaction at some point that you hadn’t noticed. You watched in silence as he pulled his boxers and Levi’s back up over his legs.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Joel said after he was fully dressed. You were still laying on the bed completely nude attempting to recover from the mindblowing sex you’d just endured. Joel walked towards the door, turning briefly to look at your one last time.
“You might want to get dressed, sweetheart. Hate to have your daddy walk in to see my cum spilling out of you.” He winked, then disappeared out of the door, leaving you alone fucked out of your mind.
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ijuliet · 11 months
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enhypen sexual guilty pleasures (s)
enhypen and their small/sexual habits with you
paring : legal line!enhypen x fem!reader
warnings : oral(f+m), heesung is sorta controlling (blowjob), angry make out w/ jay, jake eating reader out, sunghoon jerking off/kinda pervy
wc : ~1k
MINORS DNI!!
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· lee heesung
anytime you were innocently on your knees next to your boyfriend, the restraints of his cock began to grow. for example, the times you picked something up from the ground, were a sweetheart and got the lower cabinet for him, or tied the laces of your shoes, heesung couldn’t help but get hard.
until one night you were all celebrating the boys comeback at the dorm, slipping off of your boyfriend’s lap and into the kitchen. heesung kept his eyes on your shadow as he saw you moving about. he got up from his seat after a while and was pleased with the scene he walked into.
you were lighting a candle on a cake and trying to suppress the flame from dying by covering it with the palm of your hands. you were on your knees and looked up with puppy dog eyes.
“i was just trying to surprise you guys...” you sighed, thinking your plan was ruined. heesung could feel himself in his pants— hard and heavy.
your boyfriend walked over to your innocent yet sinful position and looked at you with a recognizable glare. eyeing him through your lashes, you cocked your head to the side.
heesung reached his hand out to you and helped you back up to your feet. taking the cake from your hands and placing it on the counter beside you.
"can you do me a favor, baby?" he says as he interlocks your fingers. you nod your head, already taking a guess at what your boyfriend was going to ask.
"give the boys their cake and tell them you’re going home, feeling a bit drowsy, right?” his free hand reaches up to your chin, and his thumb glides over your bottom lip.
"but you forgot your phone in my room."
heesung's favor was simple to complete: you congratulated the boys, and they all smiled at you, thinking you were just the sweetest girl ever after bringing a cake for them.
but you had deceived them.
right next door you were on your knees, tears rolling down your face as you gagged on heesung’s cock. looking up at him through your eyelashes caused the boy cover his mouth to stifle his moans.
· park jongseong
heated arguments always led you and jay to become entangled with each other. his head between your thighs or your hands in his pants— it didn’t matter; it was bound to happen.
it all started because of your outfit. you had plans with your mutual friends and had gotten ready with jay. you had asked for his opinion on your clothes, but it seemed his phone was more interesting.
finally, at the restaurant, you were seated between jake and your boyfriend. but for some odd reason, jay’s grip on your thigh did not stop you from sharing your interests with jake and his dog. you had even planned to meet his pet, making jay caress his jaw beside you to calm himself.
the trip back home was silent, and you smiled out the window, knowing what was going to happen next.
when you made it home safely and the door behind you clicked locked, jay immediately pinned you against the cold wall.
“what’s so special about jake, huh?” jay crashed his lips against yours, taking the air out of your lungs.
“fuck baby, you just had to ignore me.” his hands roughly bunched up your skirt to your hips as his wet kisses traveled down your neck. when he was met with skin and not the hem of your panties, the chuckle he emitted made you regret your choices.
“you’re in for it tonight.”
· sim jaeyun
jake woke up with you in his bed and smiled at your sleeping state. he stumbled out of bed with his boxers hanging low on his hips, looking around for his shirt, but remembered the activities of the night before.
jake caught the neckline of his shirt on your chest and saw the outline of your boobs. unsurprisingly, he was hard.
the same event occurred last night; after showering together and borrowing one of jake's shirts, he just had to fuck you with it on.
you stirred in your sleep as you felt someone weirdly staring at you. opening your eyes slowly, you saw jake at the foot of the bed smirking with a look of lust.
the sight made you giggle and rub your eyes awake as he took the duvet off your body in one quick pull.
"i won’t take too long." jake crawled up and in between your legs, planting sweet kisses and groaning along your thighs. your hands ran through his blonde locks as his mouth ghosted over your wet cunt. one of his large hands made its way under his shirt as his slim fingers fondled your breast.
"wear my clothes more often, baby." you moan as you feel jake’s cold tongue between your folds.
“and i’ll have to fuck you all day.”
· park sunghoon
that perfume.
the perfume you carefully apply to your body everyday is enough to make sunghoon crumble. it's on his clothes, in his room, and he even smells it on his own members.
the perfect mix of formal and intoxicating. even miles away, he can’t stop thinking about you and your scent.
while on tour, sunghoon had packed one of his sleep shirts that he didn’t have time to throw in the wash, and as he rummaged in his luggage at night, your perfume instantly made its way to his nostrils.
"fuck," he cursed underneath his breath. you were unaware that this was enough to make your boyfriend’s cock hard.
sunghoon would call himself put together, but the way he had already begun to palm his bulge made him shake his head.
how could something so normal make him so on edge? as he closed his eyes, sunghoon imagined it was you in his shirt, hands running up and down his length, encouraging your boyfriend to let go and release.
and he did; he threw his head back and groaned as white strings gathered in front of him and onto his only clean sleep shirt.
guess he’d just have to send you his shirtless ab pics in return ;)
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this one’s for my engenes <3
did u like!!! hope ya did :) feel free to send in recs or hard thoughts!!
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femmespoiled · 10 months
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I've been thinking quite a bit about this conversation I had with a butch I had a thing with, a few years back. To be honest, it crosses my mind a lot. In this conversation we were talking about butch/femme, aesthetics, stereotypes etc. The context to it is that I saw a video that showed, unfortunately stereotyped, femme as these 4 styles of clothing and whatever, you can think it was funny, it's not the end of the world certainly, but we got to talking about this notion that I think the community forgets, regardless of verbally recognising "we're not aesthetics".
He showed me a picture that he really liked of this butch/femme couple in a bar and they were both wearing the same outfit and yet we could recognise them as a butch/femme pairing. Reminds me also of this black and white picture of two butches with a femme in the middle, they were in similar clothes, only the shirts said "butch" or "fem" in the case of the one I now bring up. Both of these were taken before the 1980s, if I recall correctly. Of course these are pictures, so we don't get the full context of their identities, but the intention here is to illustrate the concept of, in a way, the silliness of separating us by clothes and aesthetics. What this expectation of femininity or masculinity means considering both of these can be presented in such a subjective way.
When I talk about this, and how I view femme through my own femme lenses, I want to once again, shed light to some parts I love of The Persistent Desire: A Femme-Butch Reader by Joan Nestle:
"the femme is the lesbian who poses this problem of misinterpreted choice in the deepest way... Femmes are women who have made choices, but we need to be able to read between the cultural lines to appreciate their strength. Lesbians should be mistresses of discrepancies, knowing that resistance lies in the change of context." - the resistance and the strength of femme, along with its meaning, isn't quite obvious and a lot of people tend to miss it.
"Butches were known by their appearance, femmes by their choices."
And this part of Butch Is A Noun by S. Bear Bergman:
"(For the record, I believe that the same is true of femmes; the femmes who get the most admiration, the most approbation in the queer community in which I live seem to be the ones who cherry-pick exactly what of femininity they want, mix it with a hearty dash of traditionally masculine characteristics like sexual agency, stompy boots, assertiveness, fondness for power tools, and so on, and shake up a gendered cocktail that makes traditional unexamined cultural femininity look a little watery, a little pale. This is what I see, as a longtime admirer of femmes in all their variations, but I freely acknowledge that I only see what any femme cares to show me, and it's really not for me to say."
I think femme identity can become this pale misconstrued concept because we're not as obviously recognizable and people aren't as prepared to recognize us. People get used to, when thinking of lesbians, noticing and expecting butch signs, in such a way that femmes flew under the radar as an identity and definition and we still deal with that heavily today. And lately I've been seeing somewhat of a guessing game of what it all means that doesn't encompass our full range, truly it's hard to encompass that in any case.
But the moral of the story, I guess, is that femme needs more than a glance, more than one size fits all, more than what meets the eye, if we can recognize the multitude and holistic nature in the other side of our coin, we're capable of recognizing it within us.
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stories-and-chaos · 2 months
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Shrike pt 2
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[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” I did my best for an ace x ace relationship, based on personal experience. Both parties are moderately sex favorable since writing from my own experience is easiest, so I’m not sure if this counts as QPR. Written mostly in spite over all the Alastor smut. And overly innocent reader inserts. I don’t mind some smut but c’mon people.]
[Part 2/2 Word count 6520/12026]
[cw: blood, gore, violence, attempted sexual assault, fluff]
———————
You woke up. Had it been just a nightmare? You reached for Alastor next to you but your hand hit stone. Not even the sheets on your bed; stone. You bolted upright, eyes snapping open. You saw a vibrant red sky and a myriad of unfamiliar buildings. All the architecture had spikes or teeth or eyes incorporated. A sign nearby proclaimed Welcome to Hell! It’s terrible here!
Not a nightmare. You were dead, shot moments after Alastor. At least you took out the bastard that killed him. You hadn’t been a religious person but tracked you would end up here. If there was any mercy in the afterlife, you would find your husband nearby.
Of course he wouldn’t be. You were in Hell and it’s terrible here. You did see a number of…creatures around. Mostly humanoid but with additional features. Fur, feathers, tails, extra eyes, tentacles, scales, gears, wires, horns, flames. All that and more. Were these devils?
As you stood up you caught a glimpse of your own arm. Your taloned hands were red, before abruptly changing to a pale white on your upper arms. From what you could see of your shoulders they were covered in black feathers. Your legs were similar, red at the heeled feet that changed to white above the knee. You couldn’t tell what your torso looked like; you were wearing a silver dress with vermilion threads woven along the length. It looked like your favorite show outfit, just in a different color.
You steadied yourself, already missing Alastor’s presence. You felt a rustling sensation on your back; did you have something stuck there? Reaching back you found feathers. As you tried to brush them away, the odd sensation of something touching your hair made you jump.
Were those… your feathers? You walked along the street and got a look at yourself in a shop window. Sprouting from your back were wings, mostly black feathers with a white patch. Your face now had an avian look but was still recognizable as yours. It was mostly bright white with with a black mask over your eyes. Your hair was now a gleaming grey, with a red hat pinned on. To complete the look, you had a feathered tail sprouting above your buttocks.
You recognized the bird you resembled. The loggerhead shrike, the butcher-bird.
“Well lookie here, we got us a brand new little birdie.” A shark-like man slinked up to you. “A cute one too. Why don’t you come with us like a good birdie, we’ll treat you real nice.” He grinned, showing serrated teeth. Other creatures joined him with equally sadistic expressions.
Of course you had scum like this to deal with. You were in Hell and it’s terrible here. “Out of my way, lowlife. I don’t have time to deal with you.” You pushed him away with the back of your hand to walk past.
“It wasn’t a question bitch. You’re coming with us.” A clammy hand grabbed your wrist. Before you could even really think about it, you were swinging your other arm at him. You were suddenly holding a stiletto blade which you jabbed into his forearm. Black blood spurted out when you removed your blade.
You spun away as the shark shrieked. Now you had a stiletto in each hand. Your feathers were bristling, your wings spreading behind you. “Back OFF!” Your high pitched voice, louder than it ever was when you were alive, made all of them flinch. On instinct you hopped a bit and a flap of your wings slammed the hapless creatures into buildings from the downdraft.
It propelled you to the rooftops. Not ready to take full flight yet, you landed. The demons below were writhing in agony. You took another look at your hands, this time with almost delicate looking blades in your palms. “Ah, mais oui, a gal can get used to this.”
————
It took you five years to find Alastor. As it happened Hell, even just the Pride Ring where Sinners like yourself could be, was a very big place. But if you were here, able to survive, your husband had to be as well. You made a living (ha!) the same as before, singing for your supper. You had no interest in being an Overlord, but you did get a reputation for swift retribution to those that crossed you. Demons who tried to violate your boundaries quickly found out your stilettos were unending, razor sharp, and accurate. Whether they were alive to tell the tale depending on if they were smart enough to back away.
You got the nickname of “Singing Shrike” in Pentagram City. It suited you fine. Especially since you hoped Alastor would recognize it.
You survived the annual exterminations and steadily worked your way through the city. There were so many different districts and the population was ever changing. At least one area you didn’t have to explore was the Red Light District. You doubted death would change Alastor’s indifference to those activities.
When the radios started broadcasting tormented screams, you were surprised as any other demon. Not disturbed though, it was Hell and you’d heard similar ones in life. But the fact they went out over the radio made you wonder…
The broadcasts continued on as Overlords disappeared throughout the city. Then one day: “Salutations Sinners and welcome to the broadcast! I’m Alastor the Radio Demon, I’m so glad you’re all tuning in. I’d like to thank you all for listening to the previews of this broadcast’s main segment, ‘Overlords Overthrown.’ Without further ado, I’d like to present our newest participant!”
You almost couldn’t believe your ears. But there was no mistaking that voice or that demeanor. Of course your Alastor would be the “Radio Demon.” Now that you knew he was active in Hell, you just had to find him.
He would be at a broadcast tower right now. With a few strong flaps you launched into the red sky. There were multiple possibilities but if you had to guess, it would be the tallest one. It was near Cannibal Town, an area you hadn’t been to before. It was on the other side of the city and even with wings you took awhile to get there.
As you got close, you saw a tall lean demon exiting the station. He was a vibrant red from the tips of his ears to the hems of his well tailored suit. From above, you couldn’t see his face but his gait was all too familiar. It had to be him.
And to clinch it, another demon emerged from a nearby café. As blonde and as curvy as she had been in real life, Mimzy. You didn’t realize she was in Hell too. “Alastor, a fabulous show as usual, you never disappoint, doll face.”
He gave his theatrical laugh. “Ha ha! As you know, anything worth doing is worth doing well!” His voice sounded like it was still coming over a radio.
You landed a few yards in front of them, finally getting a good look at the male demon’s face. The features were sharper and his grin was filled with pointed teeth but that was your husband. His hairstyle was vastly different from life and he had tiny antlers peeking out from the red mop.
“Y/N? Cher?” The radio crackle on his voice disappeared for a moment.
“Alastor,” you breathed, but unable to get out more than that. In an instant he was sweeping you into his arms in a bridal carry, spinning joyfully.
“Ma cher, I never thought I’d see you again. The worst part of Hell has been knowing I left you alone.”
You couldn’t help but tear up. “Alastor, I’m so sorry about that night. If I hadn’t distracted you… maybe we’d still be alive.”
“Maybe, maybe not. I never blamed you Y/N. But this isn’t the proper place for a reunion between husband and wife.” To your surprise, green edged black energy enveloped you both. You could still feel Alastor’s arms around you but the rest of your senses disappeared. “Just a moment my dear, we’ll be home soon,” his voice echoed around you.
The darkness fell away, revealing a room inspired by your home in life. One jarring difference was a missing wall that instead led into a bayou. He kept you in his arms as he settled onto a couch. The familiar surroundings and relief at finding him proved to be too much. Face buried in his red jacket, you collapsed into tears.
Alastor held you as he had many times before. He knew the best thing was for you to let it all out and to be ready with a handkerchief when you needed it. Which he was, holding his out when you finally raised your head. You dabbed at your eyes carefully. He chuckled, “Well my dear, at least you don’t have to worry about ruining your makeup with your new look.”
You laughed despite yourself. “That is a relief. One less thing to worry about.” You leaned back into his embrace, unconsciously wrapping your wings around you both. His head whipped back and forth, taking in this new development.
“Sorry ma cher, should I put them down?”
“Hmm, I believe they’re fine. It was simply unexpected. It’s…actually pleasant for you to be wrapped around me for once.”
“It can’t be any more unexpected than being whisked away in shadows. Any other gal would have jumped out of her skin cher. Or feathers for that matter.”
That was enough to get the two of you talking about the last five years. You learned about how he started taking out Overlords for the pure challenge and entertainment of it. The result was he was becoming an Overlord, specifically of the area next to Cannibal Town. He demonstrated some of what his shadows could do for you.
For your part you told him the rest of what happened that final night. When he learned you killed the man who shot him within moments, his gleeful smile nearly split his face in two. “That’s my darling wife,” he praised you. Your exploration of the city and the reputation you had garnered seemed to pale in comparison to what Alastor had been up to. Nonetheless he listened in fascination. Evidently the perspective of the city you brought him was something he could use in his upcoming plans. You showed him what you had learned of the wind you controlled and the stilettos you produced from nothingness.
Soon the two of you were preparing dinner together. Jambalaya, it really was a favorite of his. He assured you the meat hadn’t come from Cannibal Town; while he indulged he wasn’t about to make you eat it as well.
You didn’t have any nightclothes with you, but this was your husband. He’d seen you in all states of dress and cleanliness. So you undressed, keeping just the dress slip on. Alastor stripped off his suit down to his drawers. The bed was a replica of what you had shared in life and you settled into it with him as naturally as before. The main differences were his claws brushing your feathers and your wing covering you both.
Sighing deeply, Alastor pressed his lips against against your hair. “Thank you for finding me, cher.” You couldn’t help but smile at how his words matched your wedding night. Relaxing into sleep, you murmured “I’ll always find you cher.”
Mimzy was the only demon you encountered that had known you both in life. Those familiar with Alastor or yourself in Hell were flabbergasted seeing you stroll together. Since you once again moved into his home most of the gawkers had experience with your husband.
Seeing a strange demon on his arm turned heads; first that the untouchable Radio Demon had a girl, second that she was happy holding her own with the Radio Demon. When you ventured to your old haunts the reaction were similar. The Singing Shrike was allowing anyone to touch her without ending up impaled and that the Shrike had a beau.
One of few that wasn’t terribly surprised was Rosie, the cheerful Overlord of Cannibal Town. Alastor brought you around to her Emporium, introducing you as his “darling life and death partner, Y/N.” Her blank black eyes widened in realization as her toothy smile grew.
You got along fabulously with Rosie, much better than your acquaintances when you were alive. Maybe because you felt freer in Hell, maybe because she never once questioned your relationship with Alastor. According to the residents in her district she was very perceptive about matters of the heart. Whatever the reason, you enjoyed relaxing and performing in Cannibal Town. It turned out you were fond of pinkie fingers; many times you’d be listening to Alastor’s broadcast while enjoying a cup of tea and your gruesome snack.
Power plays in the city came and went. You avoided the annual exterminations together. Not that they mattered much, there was always more Sinners dying. Some tried and succeeded in gaining a foothold and eventually a base of power in the city. Others…well they tried.
You still weren’t interested in being an Overlord yourself. Alastor wasn’t really either truth be told. It just sort of happened, with the deal making and killing various powerful demons. You both built alliances and rivalries over time, with the two states changing within moments on occasion.
One demon in particular became a pain in both your sides. Vox arrived in Hell a few decades after you and Alastor. The television headed demon was originally cordial with Alastor and charming to you. Alastor, despite not caring for technology developed after his death, recognized Vox’s ability and had a measure of respect for him. You found him amusing, so long as he understood your relationship with Alastor was non negotiable. As time passed, Alastor and Vox’s opinions of each other shifted. What started as friendly banter turned into hostile bickering and then outright violence. The first time they tussled, they both backed down when they realized how even the match was.
You of course helped your husband retreat. A newly dead creature, Valentino, assisted Vox. You hated him on sight; both of you were defending your counterparts when he started flirting with you, so blatantly that even you realized it. The scum blew a cloud of red smoke in your direction. A flicker of couple feathers summoned a harsh gust, destroying the smoke and tearing the hat and tinted glasses off his bug head. You followed up with a stiletto flying through the air, aimed to graze his coat directly over his groin. It tore a chunk of the fur lining off as it whizzed past, impaling the ground next to Vox’s head.
After that, hostilities between the four of you only increased. Valentino never approached you alone; maybe he found out what shrikes did to the bugs they killed. Vox, on the other hand, started making passes at you whenever he could. He knew very well how long lasting your relationship with Alastor was. He also knew how disinterested you were in anything approaching sex. It seemed he was trying to seduce you purely to make Alastor retaliate.
Your husband, although he seethed in private, never did. He didn’t have to after all. The day you had enough, you grabbed Vox’s tie with a smile. Thrilled that he finally wore you down, Vox didn’t notice you setting your feet. He towered over you and like so many others didn’t realize how strong you were. So when you spun and flipped him into the ground, he was surprised enough that his screen went blank. By the time his face returned, a dozen of your blades materialized to pin his clothes to the ground. You used the hilt of another to crack his screen.
“If you ever try that again, I’ll fill you with so many holes that every demon in the city will be able to use you as a power outlet.” You pressed a toe against his neck. “Do I make myself clear?” He couldn’t actually move his head but Vox made his face bob up and down on the screen. “Lovely.”
There was an uneasy stalemate for years. It wasn’t until after the turn of the century that Alastor and Vox clashed again. Maybe it was the influence of that aggressive new girl Velvette that prompted it, but Vox started going after your husband again. A fight as big as their first major match erupted one day. Predictably, the two were equally wounded. Unpredictably, you couldn’t locate Alastor after he retreated into his shadows.
You knew he wasn’t double dead. The two of you had created charms for each other that would let you know if the other died. With how uncertain the afterlife could be, it was one source of comfort. So the music note finial on your hat pin imbued with a bit of his shadows gave you that good news at least.
But you couldn’t find him. What could possibly have happened? Days stretched into months and years with no clue. The Vees (the trio called themselves now) were happy to flaunt Alastor’s absence, both to Hell and you in particular. You found yourself checking on that bit of shadow often, just as reassurance.
Seven years later, you had stepped up as Overlord in Alastor’s loose territory. The broadcast station became a recording studio under you, Songbird Studios. That was when you caught a glimpse of one of Vox’s shows. You were heading back after finishing a deal with a promising new voice when you heard “So the Radio Demon is back in town, why’s he hanging around, what does that mean for your family?” You glared at the screen. He was at Charlie Morningstar’s new venture, the Hazbin Hotel.
Furiously, leapt to the sky. Demons were knocked to the ground in your wake but you had more important things on your mind. The hotel itself was just outside the city proper. As you approached it, all the lights in Pentagram City blinked out. The hotel was unaffected and you could see a small broadcast tower with an ON AIR sign attached to the building. You could have burst into his studio. But the downside of being an Overlord is you had people to look after now. At least I know where you are cher, you thought, changing course for home.
It took a few weeks to get everything set up. You didn’t want everything to fall apart in what could be an extended absence. So you ensured both the studio and your territory would be fine with minimal input for at least a couple months.
Then you couldn’t wait any longer. But even as a demon you were a lady. Decorum then. So you entered through the front door. The slightly dilapidated building was contrasted by the sunny voice saying “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”
From the opposite direction you heard a familiar world weary voice. “Y/N! The fuck are you doing here?” Husk yelled upon seeing you. “Oh, do you know each other?” The chipper young woman introduced herself as Charlie Morningstar, the hotel owner.
“Wonderful to meet you Charlie. My name is Y/N and yes, Husk and I have known each other for a long time.”
“Oh, it’s so nice to meet one of your friends, Husk!”
“Ah, actually Charlie-“ he started to say but you hopped up on a barstool and gave the former Overlord a broad smile. “Husk dear, I feel parched. I don’t suppose you have some good whiskey here?” The poor man took the hint and shut his mouth. He poured you a drink while Charlie bounced away, saying she’d let you two catch up.
“Soooo, listened to any good radio shows lately?” Husk’s ears twitched in agitation at your question.
“Just the one,” he replied while wiping down glasses. “Look, Y/N, you’re not gonna…” he trailed off, not even sure how to continue. Despite having made a deal with Alastor and interacting with you both regularly, he’d never seen you two fight.
“Alors pas! I’m not here to make any trouble bon ami. But after seven years I deserve a little fun, yes?” Any response he would have made was cut off by Alastor himself coming downstairs. He froze at the bottom as he saw who was at the bar.
One of the demons in the parlor popped up. “Something wrong smiles? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or some tits,” the white spidery demon said suggestively. You finished your drink before hopping down.
“Alastor, ma cher! I’ve been so worried!” Another demon, a black snake also perked up and the two men looked back and forth between you two.
“Actually, she’s Alastor’s wife,” Husk informed everyone present as you trotted up to him. Predictably, the unfamiliar demons in earshot all yelled, “His WIFE?”
The last few feet you used your breezes to give you a foothold off the ground. Alastor had been taller than you in life and his elongated demonic form towered over you. With practice you’d figured this technique out. It was useful not only in a fight but to put yourself at eye level with others.
His smile never faded but you could tell he was nervous. “Y/N, cher…I…” he fell silent as you hooked a talon under his chin. “Seven years you’ve been gone darling. And nothing when you got back? Ma cher, you are in trouble.”
His ears flicked nervously as you propelled yourself slightly higher than him. You kept your talon in place. “Shall we discuss this elsewhere Alastor?” His hand shook slightly as he took yours. “Of course my dear, let's go somewhere with less of an audience.”
You hand in his arm, he led you to his suite. In the foyer you could hear “awww, they’re so cute! how the fuck is tall dark and spooky married? well…likely one proposssed and the other sssaid yesss-, not what I meant buddy, hey don’t look at me I ain’t their chaperone.”
Once in his room (which had the same house/bayou motif as your home) you hugged him tightly around the waist. His arms were frozen in surprise above you; it wasn’t in your nature to be this forward and spontaneous with physical touch. “Cher, I-“
“Shut up Alastor.” You dug your talons in just enough to give a bite to your words. “I’m angry with you and I missed you and I’ve been so worried and the only reason I knew you were here was because of that pissing contest you got into the other day. So shut up until I’m ready cher.” One of his hands lowered to your shoulder and patted a silent yes.
It was a few moments before you spoke again. “Take me to the couch and start explaining darling.” You could feel the amusement and relief from his posture as he scooped you up.
“Where should I start cher?”
“That fight seven years ago. You and Vox got into a fight, you went into your shadow, then nothing. I knew you were alive but I couldn’t find you. I said I’d always find you.”
“You did find me my dear. As to what occurred…” he explained how a third party had interfered with the fight, injuring both him and Vox. How that third party had followed his weakened shadow, cornering him. How he’d been forced into a deal with that third party. Who that party was and what little of the deal he could tell you.
“Well shit. And your being here has something to do with the deal?” He nodded. “Why didn’t you come home though?! Even after the deal was struck, at least I could have been there for you!”
“Y/N, I’d just been trapped like I’d done to so many others. They played me and I danced right along. How could I bear to face you then?”
“Mais la, cher! I wouldn’t have cared.” You sighed and leaned back to look at him. “C’est la mort. We’re together again now and I’m not letting you go it alone again.” He blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting that. “I haven’t just been pining all this time you know. Someone had to take over your territory and I wasn’t about to let one of those bratty Vees have it.”
He brought your hand to his cheek and nuzzled it affectionately. “My dear shrike, you never disappoint.”
“I’m sure the young Miss Morningstar would welcome some more protection for the hotel. And it seems the place is lacking in entertainment.”
“Right you are on both counts my dear!” He sounded back to his old chipper self. “Shall we introduce you to this delightful collection of misfits and reassure them you haven’t flayed me alive?”
“One more thing.” He cocked an eyebrow in question. “May I kiss you first?” His smile softened as he nodded. You kissed him deeper than usual, stroking his hair as you did so. Alastor’s long arms wrapped around your back as he accepted the kiss. “Much better,” you said as you pulled back.
“I’d rather not go seven years between kisses my dear, but that was a nice reintroduction.” With that he escorted you back downstairs. You hadn’t been gone long and even if you had, Alastor’s unknown wife showing up to berate him was too good to miss.
Once again he introduced you as “darling life and death partner, Y/N.” Charlie, ever the bubbly hostess immediately shook your hand before introducing the residents. To no surprise Alastor had brought Niffty here to do the housekeeping. “Y/N!” She shrieked in a pure moment of Niffty mania and dashing around you. “I’ve missed you too ma petite!”
“So uhhhhh, how long you two been together?” The lanky spider called Angel Dust asked as Alastor helped you to a seat.
“Hmmm… how long has it been cher?” Alastor mused aloud.
“We did stop counting after the first fifty years or so but I believe it’s been nearly a century since the wedding.” Jaws dropped at your statement. Alastor kissed your knuckles gently. “And my dear husband is just as charming and gallant as ever.”
“Wow, that’s incredible! It’s so sweet you’ve been a couple for this long! How did the two of you meet anyway?” Charlie, in all her sweetness, asked innocently.
“It’s a tad embarrassing, but we killed a man together.” You could almost hear something pop in Charlie’s brain. Her girlfriend, Vaggie, looked thrilled.
“Yes indeedy! Some ne’er-do-well attacked her on her walk home. When I arrived to assist, the lout was distracted enough that Y/N was able to stab him in the eye. Why, I’d never seen anything quite so beautiful as such a lovely little thing jamming her hat pin into her assailant! I quickly finished dispatching the man before escorting her the rest of the way home.”
You looked at him with affection. “That led to him walking with me in the evening and one thing led to another until here we are!” Vaggie’s eye was shining, Charlie was frozen, the rest of the group could only blink in shock. “Husk, why are you so surprised, I thought we’d told you before!”
“About the attack, yeah, not that you killed him.”
“I would have thought that was implied, my good man,” your husband said dryly.
“Okay okay, murder as a date night activity aside,” Angel said, gesturing with his top set of arms. “Back to the important things. Ain’t Al…do ya…have ya ever…” not quite able to find the words he formed a circle with one hand. He inserted the pointer finger of another into it, making a back and forth motion. Both you and Alastor tilted your heads in confusion, not recognizing the gesture. “Aw geez there’s two a’ him and they’re married. D’you two fuck?”
“Ooooh! Is that what that means?” You experimented making the same gesture. “Now I get it! This finger is the penis and this is the vagina!”
“Hmm,” Alastor inspected your hands. “Shouldn’t this hand make more of an oval shape then?” He squished your hand slightly to elongate the shape. “I think it’s easier to just make a circle darling. And I suppose it could be other orifices.”
“But do you two have sssex?” Sir Pentious interjected, bringing things back to the original question.
“Of course we do!” Alastor chirped. Angel looked equally horrified and amused, Charlie was still frozen, the rest just looked stunned. “How?!” Angel finally asked, fighting back laughter.
“Infrequently and with great vigor,” you replied in a cheerful, succinct manner. Husk pulled his ears down groaning, “I don’t need to hear this, this is like hearing my parents behind the door.”
“Okay, I think that’s enough about Alastor and Y/N’s sex life!” Vaggie halted anything else you and your husband might have said. “Are you going to move in too Y/N?”
“That was the idea if you’ll have me. It seems like this place could use some entertainment and more security.”
“And my dear Y/N is a dab hand at both! She isn’t called the Singing Shrike for nothing.”
“Of course we’ll have you!” Charlie finally snapped out of her daze at the thought of a new resident. “Everyone’s welcome at the Hazbin Hotel!”
Moving into Alastor’s hotel suite was fairly simple. You grabbed a few items from home and made sure your subordinates knew how to reach you in an emergency. It would have felt like a bit of a vacation with the lack of Overlord responsibilities. But the updated extermination schedule did cast a pall over things.
After Charlie’s disastrous audience with Heaven, you and Alastor decided on your plans. He would work with Charlie to get support in exchange for a deal with him. Meanwhile you would head to your territory.
Fortunately everything looked in order when you arrived. Proper delegation had its perks. You requested everyone’s presence at one of the theaters. Most of the Sinners that followed you were some sort of forest creature; birds, rabbits, foxes, lizards, and the occasional deer. The majority were musicians or actors, performers of a multitude of genres. They were fiercely defensive, hurt one and the rest would destroy the offender.
Explaining the situation, you asked for volunteers. This wasn’t a turf war over home ground and you weren’t about to order anyone. Surprisingly, almost all you followers were ready to go. Maybe it wasn’t so surprising, almost everyone in Hell had beef with angels.
You appointed two of the strongest to stay back, along with half of the volunteers. If something happened to you or Alastor, you wouldn’t put it past those brats from the Vees to attempt a takeover. All of the demons you brought had flight abilities, which meant your songbirds could handle the aerial combat. Your contingent arrived just after the cannibals and Carmine’s weapon delivery.
“Ah there’s my darling and her flock!” You landed next to Alastor and Rosie, giving your friend a hug as you did. “Y/N! I was surprised you weren’t with your hubby but I see you’ve been busy too!”
“We have a lot to do and less time to do it, we can be attached at the hip after the fight,” you said as Alastor took your hand.
“Well I’m glad to see my favorite pair of aces back together. Let’s get all these fine demons settled, hm?” With your territories being neighbors, there was familiarity and even a few friends between the cannibals and your songbirds.
—————
Extermination Day. It didn’t matter how ready the defenders of Hell were, it was time. Almost everyone was in battle gear. You had traded in your sparkly flapper dress for a more practical A-line that reached your knees. You’d attempted a suit but the trousers just felt wrong. So a silvery grey dress with vibrant red pinstripes. The hem had long black points all along it, evocative of your blades. Since your summoned weaponry wouldn’t hurt an angel you had a rapier and half a dozen stilettos that would.
Alastor had requested a custom piece from Carmilla, a hat pin made of angelic steel. The finial had a spray of red feathers and he’d imbued it with a fragment of shadow. In return, you’d given him cufflinks shaped like vibrant red eyes. Of course they had a touch of your winds, not only to let him know you were okay but for you to track him if need be.
All too soon, the sky opened up and the exorcists spewed into Hell. At Vaggie’s war cry you and your followers took to the air. You looked for Alastor and saw him atop the hotel. No changes to his outfit, he looked impeccable as ever. His maniacal laugh echoed in the air as his shield formed an orb around the battle.
You and your flock were tasked with knocking angels out of the sky. Some did this by stooping like hawks, others used the angels own weapons to injure their wings. Your wind magick sent them tumbling into each other. Any that got too close to you were impaled or found you making the most of your momentum to fling them to the ground, mimicking how shrikes gave their prey whiplash.
A loud crack, golden light spreading through the black orb, and Alastor’s shield fell. He’d suspected that might happen and was ready to take Adam on. You didn’t concern yourself about their fight, even when your husband’s form grew. What did concern you was the slice of angelic power that dispersed it. Another swipe from Adam had Alastor flying across the rooftop.
“ALASTOR!” If all of Hell didn’t hear you then clearly they weren’t listening. No no no no not again I won’t lose him again. You stabbed the angel you were fighting in the throat and propelled yourself to his side. You landed protectively over his curled body. For the first time in decades you let your true form show.
Your wings turned metallic, silver and gold, and grew twice their size. They gained an art deco appearance but were as functional as ever. Your face became more avian. You had a hooked beak and your red limbs glowed as your talons sharpened. Dozens of your blades danced in the air around you and your husband.
“Back OFF!” You screeched at the angel’s leader. Wind kicked up by your voice tore at his clothes and wings.
“The fuck are you supposed to be crazy bitch?!” He launched a bolt of light at you; you parried it with stilettos but it was a near thing and it took out a third of what you had summoned.
“Y/N. His wife, you limp dicked bastard.” You launched the rest of your blades at him; they formed a rope like column that battered at him. You knew they wouldn’t be able to hurt him but you were looking for an opening with your rapier.
He fired wildly, yelling “fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fucking bitch!” You moved to strike when three stray bolts peppered you. Two hit a wing, one your shoulder. With a screech you missed the opportunity and fell next to Alastor.
Suddenly your husband grabbed your arm. “Have to disagree with you there!” He said in a singsong. He made sure his grip on you was secure. “Radio’s not dead, but it is ending this broadcast.” His shadows wrapped around you both. As you were swept away you heard Adam say “Bye bitches!”
A tiny part of you felt bad, leaving everyone like that. The majority was grateful you and Alastor were alive. You were used to traveling in his shadow by now, so the sensory deprivation didn’t bother you like it once had.
But the loss of direction was unusual. “Alastor…?”
A moment passed. “I’m here cher.” He sounded in pain.
“Where are we going?” you managed to ask. You weren’t in great shape either honestly.
Another long moment. “I don’t know.” A shudder from the darkness around you. “I just had to get us away.” As much as you wanted to know what was happening beyond the shadow, you didn’t try to get out. You weren’t sure you’d be able to right now. Even if you did, you might just damage Alastor more.
Then a gold light showed even through the magick shadow. Immediately you were falling, still wrapped in darkness. You could feel Alastor’s desperation as the shadows stretched, trying to find…something! Some purchase or anchor to stop the fall. He managed to latch on a couple of times but couldn’t get a good enough grip. The last desperate grasp broke you both out of the darkness.
You found yourself falling down a chasm, pieces of the hotel falling with you. Alastor’s arms wrapped around you, his eyes shut tight as he braced for impact. Fuck! You struggled to flap your wings. The injured one didn’t work right. The other strained to support you both, unable to manage more than slowing the fall.
Wind! Come on come on! You focused, creating a cushion of swirling air around you. Just in time, it dampened the impact, turning a fatal fall into a bruising one.
The two of you landed in a parody of your sleeping positions. “Ow,” you said once you had enough air in your lungs.
Alastor couldn’t respond for a moment. “Ow indeed cher.” He winced as he sat up. “You saved us though my dear.” He helped you sit up slowly.
“Third time’s the charm.” At his quizzical look you clarified, “I couldn’t save you when you were shot or in that fight with Vox. But I managed it finally.”
“Saving it for when it counts cher.” The two of you could hear echoes from the battle above. A voice roaring “GO HOME” was followed by the specks of retreating angels and the portal to heaven closing.
“That sounded like Lucifer,” you mused.
“Ugh, the pipsqueak couldn’t be on time to defend his own realm?” He struggled up to his feet and held a hand out to help you. You used his support to steady yourself but mostly got up on your own power.
It took some effort but he located his broadcast tower crumpled in the bottom of the chasm. One emotional crisis later, while you examined the wreckage, he was a bit more composed. You found the last aid box and the pair of you patched each other up.
“We’ll get you out of the deal ma cher. And the one who holds your strings will find out what happens to those who come between us.”
Alastor’s smile turned vicious. “I’m not dying for anyone but you darling.” He grasped your chin to keep your gazes locked. “And don’t you dare think of doing otherwise.”
Your own lips stretched into a crazed grin. “That’s the spirit cher.” Laughing, he kissed your knuckles before pulling you both into his shadows to inform the rest of your survival.
A/N: This is all the main story for this fic I have until Season 2. I have a few one shots in mind, since there’s a century of potential content along with inserts into some episodes. I really hope this was validating for my fellow acespec Alastor fans. It definitely was for me. I know people are welcome to ship and be thirsty for characters as they like. But we seldomly get an asexual character, much less one that isn’t an emotionless robot.
In any case, thanks for reading! I’ve got a Helluva Boss AU that’s 27k words and counting if anyone needs more of my rambling stories. Smut content is clearly labeled and will be in contained portions as much as possible to limit the squick.
@edgyboi10000 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @deafsignifcantother @whitewolfsoldat @ch3sire-blu3
Part 1
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cookiealchemieart · 5 months
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Voices and the Hero I DID IT I FUCKING FINISHED THIS PIECE YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! I have Thoughts about my designs for these guys so uh Design Notes under the cut!
I'm bad at drawing actual birds (if the narrator on the hero's shoulder is any indication) so I went with the next best thing that I'm better at: plague doctors! Plus plague masks are just fun to draw. I tried making each of the voices match the princess they correspond to, but it got tricky with a couple of them. In no particular order, here we go! The Hero is a bird guy with a bird mask. Perhaps the mask is meant to keep his identity locked away? Either way, the outfit is more shapes than actual fabric, similar to the Princess' gown. Simple enough to register as clothes, but vague enough to change and be recognizable as the loops splinter. Also the cape is hims wings! The Broken is made to be the wettest, most pathetic little guy, but also ever so slightly like a priest. This is to reference the Tower (mommy- I mean mommy- I mean-) saying that the hero's place by her side is "that of a priest, or a pet". So I made him look like a depressed little priest. The Skeptic is the voice that joins you on the route of the Prisoner, so what would be more fitting than a warden? Or maybe an escaped convict? Either way I love his little ponytail poking out of his hood. The Hunted looks like a feral wild child. Feather-hair out and messy, cloak made of scraps of fabric. I figured the most wild looking of the voices would be the one that corresponds to the Beast. The Smitten is all puffy and soft shapes to match the Damsel's rufflier dress and softer appearance. Also my friends recommended the hat and I agree 11/10 would hat again. Gave him a bowtie AND a cravat because the Smitten strikes me as just that extra! The Opportunist's beak is meant to resemble a parrot's, as he just parrots the ideas of whomever he considers to be "winning". This is also why he's dressed like a businessman. He kinda looks like a villain version of the Smitten, but I haven't played the Thorn's route yet, so idk if that's relevant. Also isn't this guy the only voice that doesn't show up in the Chapter 2 routes or am I forgetting one? The Stubborn has demon horns to match the Adversary (and the Eye of the Needle HOOGH MAMA). He's also got battle damage, and his mask is fashioned to look like he has a wounded and scarred eye. Fun fact! Stubborn was supposed to get the ponytail, but I decided while lining that a half cut looked better. The Cold looks the most similar to the Hero, but he's just a bit less put together. While I was drawing his hair I was thinking of L from Deathnote for some reason? Probably the cadence the Cold has. The Cheated is supposed to look like a gambler, given his title and speaking patterns. There...wasn't a good way to pair him with the Razor, but I suppose the spade on his cheek could be seen as a nod to the razor's blades? I dunno, I'm reaching here. The Paranoid suffers from my lack of impulse control when it comes to giving characters goggles. I fucking love steampunk goggles. Much like the Cold, he looks like a less-put-together Hero, but this one is a mess, actively having a panic attack, but is pushing through it because NEITHER THE HERO OR THE NARRATOR IS FUCKING HELPING. Also the stitches on his mask are meant to mirror the cracks on the Nightmare's mask. The Contrarian has a mask with three beaks as a mirror to the Stranger's three heads, but also because the two on his head make him look like a little jester and I felt that was fitting for this smartass. His cape is asymmetrical to spite the status quo.
I hope you enjoyed my art + rambles about these designs. I love doing this!
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flaneurpastel · 1 year
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give him a blank paper and a pen, say nothing and let him surprise you
simon 'ghost' riley x gn!reader
a/n : fluff, i don't think there is anything else to warn y'all about, enjoy :)
words count : 850
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after putting it all on his lap, you finally sat down beside him on the sofa, where his arm instinctively came to rest around your shoulders.
simon said nothing, his weary but curious gaze doing the work instead of his words.
"what?"
his voice doesn’t let you indifferent at its low, gravelly tone. you restrain yourself from jumping to his mouth and covering his face with kisses, on his cheeks, his nose, his lips, everywhere. finally, with a neutral face, you turned to face the tv where a rugby match was on.
simon arched his eyebrows. what was that again? he picked up the paper you had put on him, checking to see if there was a clue to the whole enigma you had decided to impose on him tonight.
a piece of white paper and a pencil.
he gave you a confused look before starting to think. he needed to recap it all. he had you by his side on the couch, even though you particularly hate rugby games, they take too long and you never understand the rules despite simon's many attempts to explain them to you. so… you expected something from him before you left. good. had he done something wrong ? the dishwasher had been emptied, though, and he also thought of throwing out the trash before coming to sit on the couch
you dared to glance at simon to see if he had decided to do something. his decomposed and lost face almost made you give up this prank, when you realized that the big ghost was caught off guard by this little joke. you bit your lip, no, you wanted to see how it would go.
finally, it's after 10 minutes that you got up, a pressing need to go to the bathroom. your passage seems to have been long, because when you came back, simon had resumed his usual posture, legs resting on the coffee table, and his right arm resting on the top of the sofa, where your place beside him was waiting for you. and more importantly, what you had handed him half an hour ago was lying on the table, the paper folded in half so that you could not see directly what he had done with it inside.
"I wonder where you get all these ideas from, y/n, I doubt if I'll ever be able to understand you." he said, letting out a small laugh at the end.
"hmm, considering the long wait I expect to see a poem declaring all your love for me in Shakespearean language," you say as you come to snuggle up to him. you take the paper at the same time
"I think I can compete with Picasso more".
a confused smile appeared on your pretty face, and it was simon's turn to restrain himself from covering it with kisses that would leave marks.
picasso?? you thought.
while simon let himself be refocused on his game, you finally opened the paper.
a huge laugh echoed through your living room.
"i hope this one means i'm good at drawing." he says unconsciously caressing your hair, staring at the TV.
your smile was so big you could feel your cheeks hurting.
on the paper were drawn two stick figures holding hands, easily recognizable. one much taller than the other with a simple t-shirt and quickly made pants, and another stick figure in a much more detailed outfit than the other person, you noticed. one has a line as a mouth, while the other has a nice 'C' on the side as a beaming smile.
he had clearly spent all his energy, time, and stick figure drawing skills on you.
little hearts that looked more like circles were flying all around you two.
the very caricatures of you and simon. 
you clearly weren't expecting this, 
"simon, that's... beautiful"
it was now simon's turn to laugh.
"you dirty liar" 
it clearly wasn't one of those realistic paintings you find in the most prestigious museums, and simon may have overdone it a bit on the length of your hair, but it was the first thing simon thought of drawing, the two of you, when you just gave him a piece of paper.
and the thought gave you butterflies in your stomach.
"I was expecting a lot of sweet words telling how happy and lucky you are to have me in your life, though, because it would have been more romantic to show soap," you say anyway to tease him.
briefly turning his attention away from the game, he gives you a look that you know all too well.
"hmm, i can draw something on you this time that you can show to soap," he says in a suave voice.
"oh yeah? i don't know what you're talking about... can you elaborate a little more? you answer, moving closer to him, your lips brushing against his as you speak.
and it is on this note that he took you, a little too easily, on his shoulders, towards the room. 
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spdrvyn · 9 months
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that dreaded time — MIGUEL O'HARA
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SUMMARY: you're out on a nice date with miguel before the thing that you've been dreading all week has finally happened.
THIS FIC CONTAINS: fluff. hurt/comfort. minor angst. period stuff. so much kissing oh my g. oh my god!!! f!reader but this can probably be for anyone with the bits yk
NOTES: went to see the barbie movie and i wanted to write this one for the girlies out there! i don't really see people talk about how miguel would be like if you were on your period (unless... its... sexual...) so i valiantly decided to take that role. enjoy!
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You were well aware of the amount of stress that Miguel was put under practically everyday as he almost tried working himself to death on his job. It was clear how he'd at times come home at the wee hours of night when you're already comfy and cozy in bed.
With that, you wanted to show exactly how much you appreciated him. Besides you were sure if he worked any more late nights then his eyes would fall out from how deep the bags under them are.
You had booked a nice fancy restaurant, dressed up in the best looking dress available in your wardrobe, spent hours in front of the dresser trying to get your makeup look just right, and miraculously able to convince Miguel to take one night off. Just one.
You wanted this to be perfect, and it was.
The almost concerning amount of studying you did for this restaurant was definitely worth it, Miguel had his jaw on the floor when he caught sight of your outfit and appearance as a whole, most importantly you were having conversations you think you were going to remember for a long time.
But, it had to end eventually.
That feeling in your gut was all too recognizable, you've been praying all week that it wouldn't happen but when you entered the restaurant thirty minutes ago and your insides were squeezing themselves, you had hoped that it was just the excitement.
Your suspicions are confirmed the moment that you shy away to the comfort room, your groans of pain and frustration echoed off of the walls. The worst part of it as well was that you didn't have any pads, tampons, or anything to help you out right now.
To make it even worse somehow, there was a very noticeable stain on your dress. You couldn't think about what to do, aside from asking Miguel to get the bill, and bring your 'perfect' date to an early finish.
Once you pulled out your phone, thumbs shakily and hurriedly typing down your explanation in a sea of typos from the tears that just threatened to break out from your waterline. Before you could even think, Miguel was already right outside the restroom with his jacket in hand for you.
Embarrassed wasn't even what could begin to describe how you felt as you walked out that fancy restaurant, with Miguel's jacket tied tightly around your waist - you were sure that anybody who caught sight of you knew exactly what was going on.
You were dead silent the entire car ride home, it worried Miguel. A lot. Not even twenty minutes ago, you were so energetic and peppy, more than happy to finally get to sit down and actually talk to him after he had been so swamped at work recently. Now, you couldn't even spare him a single glance. Instead, opting to stare blankly at the turtle-paced cars in front of you.
Let it not be said that he was irked by it, he understood where you were coming from one hundred percent and more. Once the car got stuck in traffic again, Miguel put his hand on yours in a reassuring gesture. "Are you okay?"
Quite frankly, Miguel was stumped on what to say. When it came to talking about feelings, his mind blanked so the most he could offer you was a listening ear. When you had finally turned your head to him, giving his hand a slight squeeze, "I just wanna go home." It didn't quell his worries any further.
Nevertheless, he wouldn't press further into it. For now, at least. He gives you a small smil, getting the car in motion again when the light turns green.
Once you both got home, Miguel immediately got to work.
He lit up a few candles in the washroom as you tried to find some nice sleepwear, while that was going on he decided to prepare you some food. He knew you had cravings but he wasn't even sure if you had the appetite after what happened, so something simple like popcorn or a sandwich would probably do. Probably both.
He had distracted you with a nice and refreshing bath, when you insisted that he joined in, he told you that he wanted to do a few things around the house and kissed you on the forehead when he saw the small pout that had formed on your face because of it.
The bedroom was all fixed up, like the bathroom - multiple candles lit up, lights turned off, he would've sprinkled some rose petals on the bed for that romantic effect but he had to work with what he had.
He turned on the TV in the bedroom, trying to look for a movie that he thought you would enjoy in this moment, or a show that you can rewatch and binge in one sitting, at least until you fell asleep in his arms. He was leaning towards a rewatch though.
Once you finally finished up with your bath, Miguel was behind you with a hand covering your eyes. You made a disgruntled, but mostly confused noise.
"Miguel, what—"
"Shh," He whispered in your ear. "Trust me."
You protested a bit. A lot. However, after some short reassurances and Miguel's pure insistance, you begrudgingly let him lead you blindly into the bedroom.
He removes his hand, letting it fall onto your shoulder instead as he pulled you close to him. Leaning forward just a little, watching and reveling as your jaw practically drops to the floor, eyes sparkling like the city lights right outside the window. A view like that couldn't compare to the one of pure joy on your face right now.
"Oh my god." was all you were able to get out as you slowly walked over to the bed, eyes darting back and forth towards the cleanliness of it all, the snacks placed upon the bedside drawers, the TV that already has your favorite show set back to the very first episode. Each small detail caused your heart to throb with love for Miguel, bit by bit, and you were not complaining in the slightest.
You let yourself sink into the soft and familiar mattress of your bed, a sigh slipping past your lips as you do so, and it causes Miguel to chuckle. He sits down beside you, to take in every feature of you. Your smile, your eyes, your brows, everything.
When you open your eyes again, there are already some tears streaming down and Miguel's first instinct is to cup your cheeks out of concern, the warmth from his hands spreading across your face. "Hey," It comes off as a little sharper than he intended, but you know he only means well. Only means to snap you out of whatever sad trance that you're in.
"If this is about what happened in the restaurant, then you don't need to worry about it anymore. I don't think any less of you." His thumbs swipe under your eyes, trying to catch the tears that just seem to keep falling. You giggle dryly at his comment.
"You know me too well," You bring up the sleeve of your sweatshirt to wipe away the remainder of your tears, before letting your head collapse against one of Miguel's broad shoulder's, burying your nose into the crook of his neck. "But thank you."
You press a small kiss right under his ear and he gasps, wrapping his arms fully around you. He tugs at your hair lightly, only so that he can pull you off of his neck, and admire your face for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. Humming as he closes the distance between you two, lips molding against each other's.
It practically swallows you whole, almost literally in that sense when you feel Miguel's hands exploring the expanse of your back, teasing the hem of your sweatshirt before his fingers slip under it and you shudder, breathing heavily into his mouth.
You separate before he even gets the chance to go any further, placing your index finger over his lips, and he looks at you a little confused to the point where you find it cute. But, you always find him cute so what's the fucking point in clarifying that anymore?
"How about we pick up this date where it left off first?"
You can feel his mouth curl into a smile. A certain softness invading those rugged features you'd gotten used to over the course of your relationship, he brings a hand up to your wrist and places tiny pecks onto your knuckles.
"If that's what you want, nena."
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requests closed, masterlist here
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transmascaraa · 2 months
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♡!200 followers special!♡
"A valentine's dance."
bf!gaming x gn!reader
author's note: this is basically the longer version of the gaming hcs in my last post aka the valentine's day special ALSO 2nd time ever writing a fanfic shiver me timbers😰 i hope it okay btw i'll draw my (genshin or whatever )oc/self-insert tonight cuz i have school in 2 hours and i have a bit of homework left lol
"thank you, lion dance boy."
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You and your boyfriend, Gaming, have been dating for a few months now. He loved you very dearly, just as you loved him. You were an inseparable couple, like you were glued to eachother. But, the relationship that you had was healthy, and really sweet. People talked about your closeness to other people, in the streets. You've overhead them quite a few times now. You were a famous couple in Liyue.
A really special date was approaching. The 14th of February, Valentine's day. A day to show your loved one how much you love them, to give them a gift. It was a heartwarming "holiday", for most. Not everyone, but most. And as soon at it sttarted approaching, the streets were bustling with the names of you and Gaming.
Gaming, he planned a dance show for that day, that night. He invited everyone from Liyue, and even other nations! As promised, he would amaze them and make them smile. But that wasn't all that much important to him. You were.
The whole dance show was actually just made so he could give you a rose in a more romantic and surprising way. Yes, it was a surprise. He didn't mention Valentine's day to you for the whole day, but that night...
When it finally came, that night, you started getting ready. Putting on your best outfit, ready to be looked at and praised by everyone. Was it the outfit, or the whole night? Nobody knows. The outfit was one of Gaming's favorite ones for you to wear. Whenever you wore it, he ended up staring at you too much and blushing more than usual. It was interesting, really. How can such a simple outfit make a man's heart go crazy? Make his blood rush to his face, his cheeks? The human body and mind is really impressive.
As soon as you were done getting ready, you got your bag and went out the door. Going to see your precious boyfriend perform on such a special day.
When you got there, everyone had surprised looks on their faces, but positive ones. They got out of the way, and let you stand in the first row out of the thousands of people in the crowd. Like I said, the two of you were really famous there.
Then, music started playing, the crowd went silent. The lights went out. Rose petals started falling out of nowhere from the sky, making it much more beautiful to look at.
Soon, 3 different lights were on the stage. 3
The 2 of them started dancing. They were dancers. Lion dancers.
It was nice seeing them dance, so many moves and talent. It was worth seeing it.
Eventually they stopped, and the third dancer started dancing. He was Gaming, recognizable even in the night. Flawlessly dancing and moving across the stage, everyone was amazed.
A few minutes passed, and the lights turned on again. The 3 dancers bowing down.
"Happy Valentine's day everyone! Here's a rose to a special person in the crowd!" He threw a beautiful red rose to the crowd, and coincidentally, it landed right in your hands.
Smiling, you spoke, "Thank you, Gaming!" and the performance ended there.
After there were only you and Gaming left there, you read a note that was connected to the rose by a beautiful orange string.
"Happy Valentine's day, [name]!" and just as you read it, Gaming said it himself.
"Thank you again, lion dance boy. I loved the performance."
"You're welcome, it was dedicated to you alone. I'm glad you liked it."
~~~~~
YIPPIEEEE I REALLY LIKE IT
i'm not good at fanfics imo but ig i like this one
adorable gaming frfr
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akanemnon · 6 months
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Hi so I was wondering, what's your process for creating dark world outfits for characters? Yours always look so nice and true to canon!
Honestly I take huge inspiration from Undertale and Deltarune when making outfits for the monsters especially. Generally try to keep recognizable elements so that the designs stay coherent enough. Like how Papyrus still has the big shoulder pads and how his arm and leg bones stick out. For Undyne I used certain elements that mirror her normal armor and from her Undying form, while adding some other aquatic bits. But for all characters I use lots of references from other media and role playing games. D&D and Final Fantasy especially. My first question when designing an outfit for them is always "what RPG class fits them the most?" and then I go from there. Later on we'll see a handful more designs!
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beevean · 11 months
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I decided to break down down this absolutely beautiful poster because I love it and there is some interesting content to notice <3
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Starting from the big character portraits:
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The Hecboi being his usual badass self. You can spot his earrings which I love, it's such a cute detail <3
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Isaac practicing his "step on me daddy" routine. yes sir i get it your boots are fabulous and your pants can't contain your d
I find highkey underrated how Kojima associated him with skulls in official artwork. I wish it didn't get lost in time lol.
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Trevor, my friend Trevor :) much more serious than the sass master he is in the game lol
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Julia taking care of Hector's Innocent Devils :)
Side note, while I love most of their designs in the game, I find Kojima's idea of what Hector and Isaac's Devils could look like very fascinating. I like how she draws dragons.
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The big man himself, St. Germain standing in front of a clock, and Zead holding a four-leafed clover for good luck (+ Isaac again lol)
Now, the more minute detail, going anti-clockwise:
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Not only we can see Dracula's Castle, but the figure in the center is the Devil Forgery lab in the PtR manga:
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Another underrated detail of lore :)
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Oh, this one is just. juicy <3 It took me ages to understand what's going on, but with some help I finally realized it.
So this is essentially the moment where Hector went to Dracula and was like "hey boss, would you mind if you stopped to order me to kill humans? dunno if you noticed but i'm human too and it feels weird. thanks", and Dracula was like "hmm. let me think about it. no. have a nice day :)".
In the PtR manga, it was depicted like this:
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With Dracula threatening Hector with his extended claws, and then throwing him off the castle keep. i don't know what you were expecting, man
But in the poster, he's straight up holding Hector by his throat and stabbing him with the fingers of his bat wings! So much that you can see blood dripping from his mouth! Ouch!
This only proves my headcanon that Devil Forgemasters are superhuman and can withstand wounds that would kill a normal person.
also, between this and his sippy attack in the game proper, dracula sure likes to manhandle hector a little too much.
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the besties going to work <3
You have no idea how much this little drawing pisses me off. This is the closest thing I have of a canon depiction of Hector and Isaac working as Devil Forgemasters.
I need to see them slaughtering humans together in my bloodstream D: not even NFCV had the courtesy of depicting a villain Hector actually doing villain things D: guys. guys the potential-
Aside from that, this also incidentally proves that PtR's interpretation of Isaac's fabulous outfit (being what is left of his normal Devil Forgemaster outfit after Hector destroyed it) is retroactive. My man was apparently already going shirtless just because he felt like it. Imagine being killed by Dracula's most loyal soldier and your last sight in life is his tiddies. King shit.
also
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yeah it's stupid but that's the vibe i get lol
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I get it, Kojima-san, you love your blorbo. understandable
A bit more seriously, I really appreciate how much Isaac doesn't have the certified Kojima Pretty Man face, he's instantly recognizable. I like his big nose :)
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Hector practicing Devil Forging, a smaller version of this panel from the PtR manga:
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I like how in the poster it looks like a typical yin-yang symbol, but also closer to the black-and-white motif of the Devil Forging crest :) they look like two lil dragons chasing each other.
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why does isaac look 150% more naked without his shoulder armor
It's hard to tell which even this is supposed to represent. I guess it's his defeat at Hector's hands, if we take the black splotches on the ground as his outfit being slashed. Notice the crest on the floor, similar to the intro of the game!
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The worsties fighting. Hector is pissed and Isaac is a troll, must be a day ending in Y. they're flirting
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The End! Hard to tell if it's Hector's golden Devil or Abel, but it looks awesome <3
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This one... puzzles me. I can tell that Hector is being attacked by some little devils and he's defending himself. But why is he using a small pumpkin as a weapon??
(what if this is him trying to defend rosaly from the mob who accused her of being a witch :<)
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Hector angsting. Sadly I'm not sure of what kind of flower that's supposed to be, perhaps a dandelion? I wish it was a lily of the valley like in PtR.
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Our friend Trevor again. Interesingly, in the full poster, Isaac and Trevor are directly mirroring each other.
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Trevor being like "bruh are you for real" after whipping Hector's ass black and blue. (i hate his second fight so much...)
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I would say "Hector's revenge", but actually it looks like he's bleeding and in pain. So... I think this the moment when Dracula nearly clawed Trevor's eye out.
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Trevor and Isaac fighting! Love that scene in the game :D
isaac how are you even twisting yourself. what are you doing. you're showing off, aren't you.
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Not sure about what location these ruins are supposed to be, but fascinating detail of the skeleton holding a scale of justice. It's close to Zead...
tl;dr i want to eat this poster because it's just so fucking good and a great way to summarize the game
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motherstone · 6 months
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Sitting
Idk, I kinda just decided to challenge myself to portray a character's personality w the way they sit... And tbh I don't think I 100% captured it, w Riva and most esp Aly. Which I guess makes sense, bc they're the characters that I'm still trying to figure out on revising and their personality/story would go (the revision that I'm trying to do in my had anyway). Some of the poses are referenced from wha and dungeon meshi.
Some notes:
Riva's and Aly's designs here aren't final, esp Aly's. I think I almost got what Riva's design would be, she's like 80% finalized as a lot of the elements I wanted to portray her with made it, my only issue is that she looks way too much like the FMC in Tellurion (go read it btw it's great). I dislike how the boots look, could look way more 'military/rich' but alas what mattered to me at that time was "finished" not perfect, and I could always change it later.
Decided to end Riva's braids w sharp bits bc I recall there's a game character that had that same design, but for the life of me cannot recall where. I considered making her raincoat yellow, bc it's her most recognizable feature in her introduction and makes sense for the rain, but it doesn't look very "alchemist". I also wanted to make her a pixie cut, but I haven't laid out her story to the audience yet. Maybe later.
Aly, I'm deeply dissatisfied with. I honestly can't think up of clothing that looks like she would wear but also tell a story that's in line with the worldbuilding I made so rn I just improvised. The idea is that she looks like a pilot foremost, her outfit largely based on what she wore in book 7. And of course, sharing the same boots as Riva. But she doesn't look very "Cielan" aside from it.
Honestly, I initially thought planned to make Navin pose more childishly, but I realized that I also wanted to portray a somber side to him that doesn't get much exploring about, so we get that.
And er. Sorry for being quiet. Lots of bad stuff happening (not personally, but in general w the world) and I honestly didn't know how to deal with it properly. I honestly didn't think it was appropriate to make stuff esp during dark times, but there's only so much insanity I could take so I had to pick up a pen again.
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ofdarkestdesires · 8 months
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Alright! So, now that we have the full line-up of the Level 10 Bell’s Hells artwork, I think it’s about time I sat down and gave my personal opinions that nobody asked for about everyone’s styles.
Chetney Pock'o'pea
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While I appreciate the more active pose and visible armor as opposed to his more unassuming original design, I am very off-put that he completely abandoned his original color scheme and all shreds of his original aesthetic. I also think the tracksuit is a bit much—listen, I’m a fan of toeing the line of what fashion belongs in a fantasy setting, but I’m pretty sure this fully vaulted over the it and did a full backflip and three-point landing into ridiculous. 3/10
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And unfortunately, the same must be said for his Lycan form. This artwork feels like a serious downgrade from the original Chetwolf, which honestly filled me with a shock of horror each time he popped up. The only reason it is higher than base-Chet is that Chetwolf is still a werewolf, and werewolves are badass. 4/10
Laudna
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Laudna, on the otherhand, is a total glow-up from her original design. Everything about her design ties together and brings in perfectly her aesthetic and backstory, from the haunting tree embroidery on her dress (akin to the Sun Tree she was hung from) to the little Pate birdhouse backpack (an homage to the Baba Yaga forest witch imagery she picked up), all the while looking so much like the elegant and imposing Delilah Briarwood. Easy 10/10 for me.
Fresh Cut Grass (F.C.G.)
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F.C.G.'s new art...isn't bad, but I'm not as wowed by it as some others on this list. Something has clearly changed here in the choice to include his new blue jacket, and I approve! I'm also a fan of the wires having more definition and appearing more purposefully stylized, as if he's taking better care of himself...but the pose and the style just feel a bit lacking to me. 5/10
Fearne Calloway
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Honestly, my only gripe with this outfit is the upper-half of her bustier. It feels very cluttered and like there is a lot of fine detail that just ends up being all meshed together. That would be my other only other gripe, too—there's a lot of small, fine details here that makes her feel cluttered. Which, honestly, fits her as the sneaky little hoarder that she is! But yeah, I would've done something else, something cleaner, with the upper half of her bodice. Also, while I know she is a Druid, I don't think she needs the plant growth on her legs... 8/10
Imogen Temult
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I would just like to point out that this outfit was unveiled to us as Imogen's choice for winter-wear while traveling through the Crystal Sands Tundra. Is it sexy? Definitely. Is it my personal taste? Mm, not really, but I can see the appeal. Am I upset that even after the semi-canonization of her needing glasses, this bitch is still not a sexy glasses-wearing nerd? Absolutely—but the biggest sin this outfit does is fail to be climate-accurate. -1/10 for improper environment protection, and 7/10 for the outfit itself.
Orym, Savior Blade of the Tempest
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I am incredibly torn here. Because, when it comes down to the armor itself, this is a clear winner. Orym's new uniform is a perfect upgrade from his original more humble and simple apparel, becoming much more about function and protection, while still retaining his svelte and limber appearance. The noted upgrade to Seedling is also nice, though I wish it was a bit more pronounced. What pulls me back from really loving this design, though, is his proportions—I feel like his head is way too big, or his limbs are way too skinny. Over all, I have to give this an 8/10.
Ashton Greymoore
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Remember at the start how I said I'm all for toeing the line of what fashion belongs in fantasy settings? Yeah, this fucks! From the first episode, we knew that Ashton was a punk, and this just picks that up and runs with it in such a cool, fun way. I legitimately want this entire outfit—fuck cosplay, I'd just wear this irl! It leans enough on his old design to be recognizable, but pops out as truly his own. And the hammer looks wild—I can't wait to see that thing really pop off like crazy in the next fight. Definitely a 10/10 from me!
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adobe-outdesign · 2 days
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could you review some of the neopets as animals outfits, like the fennec kacheek, red panda vandagyre, and cockatiel pteri? (those are examples, choose whichever you like!) thank you <3
(Note: I included a random selection of outfits in this post, but feel free to send in asks if anyone wants to see a specific outfit I didn't cover.)
I'll be honest, I'm personally not super big on the "outfit that resembles a real-world animal" trend. First, I play Neopets for the cool fantasy creatures; even the most true-to-life Neopets species have some pretty fantastical colors. I feel like making pets just look exactly like actual animals kind of defeats the purpose of them being Neopets. I get why people would like it and I'm not saying it's bad; it's just not my thing.
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Also, the other reason I'm not always big on these outfits is that a lot of Neopets have colours that already resemble real animal patterns. Not only do the outfits blur the colour/customization line quite a bit, but usually I like the colour ones much more, as they keep the actual design of the Neopets in place and just change the patterns and colors, rather than covering up the fun fantasy elements. This also helps them avoid the uncanny valley effect, which I talk about more below.
Also I might be over thinking this but who is making these outfits. None of these animals seem to exist in-universe as far as we're aware. what are the shopkeepers basing these off of. the colours at least have a magic as an excuse
Examples that I think are okay:
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Feathery Pteri Outfit: This one's nice! I like the layered patterning on the wings and the high-contrast colors. Most, though, I like that this sticks fairly close to the actual pet, mostly just changing up the tail shape. This almost could've been a paintbrush colour, but then again what colour is up in the air.
(Side note: the eye clipping over the beak is a rendering issue? I think?)
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Bouncing Zafara: This one definitely strays farther from the actual pet than the Pteri, but it's a fitting animal choice and it doesn't fall into the uncanny valley, which is all I care about. The body is still somewhat recognizable as a Zafara in terms of shape, and the Miamouse as the joey is super cute.
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Freshwater Lenny: Kind of the same case as the Zafara; not super one-to-one with the actual pet, but it's still recognizable as a Lenny and isn't too uncanny. The legs are a particularly nice touch, actually changing the pose to look more heron-like (though they are also the part that strays dangerously into being too detailed).
Please don't:
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Adorable Kacheek: Sorry to the fans of this one, but this outfit just resides deep within the uncanny valley to me—like it's a mascot suit instead of just a normal pet. The artstyle is way off from Neopets, looking much more Subeta-ish (except Subeta's art usually isn't so off putting). It's not a bad artstyle, mind you, it's just not very Neopets-ish. I also feel like a fennec fox was also a bad pick for this one, as it's basically unrecognizable as a Kacheek at all.
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Feathered Eyrie: Speaking of the uncanny valley, this is another pet that lands squarely there due to having entirely too much detail in the shading and weirdly realistic fur textures. It also just doesn't look very good aesthetically—the beak doesn't fit the face, and the wings are an absolute trainwreck (not only is the perspective wrong, but the left wing is coming from the middle of its back!). On the plus side, you'd be hard pressed to not recognize this as an Eyrie, and it's a fantasy creature instead of a regular animal, so I guess that's something?
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Furry Meerca: Hmm... no. This one also suffers from an overly-detailed artstyle and way too much realism, which is especially jarring when placed on top of the Meerca's heavily stylized body shape, resulting in a perfectly round animal with hyper-realistic animal eyes. It's also particularly bothersome because we already had a chipmunk Meerca design in the form of the striped Meerca colour, which is just this but less soul-haunting:
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Which is what I meant at the beginning when I was talking about colours vs outfits. The colour is a Meerca that looks like a chipmunk; the outfit is a chipmunk that looks like a Meerca. Big difference.
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